The Larry of the Rings
by Nienna Telrunya
Summary: A TLOTR, VeggieTales crossover. Three Tolkien fans on their way to the ROTK premiere are transported to Middleearth . . . as vegetables. Perilous journeys, songs, and GOBO ensue . . . featuring Archibald and the Pirates. No 'Sues.
1. Drive Into the River, Ann

1The Larry of the Rings – Episode 1  
_Drive into the river, Ann; or Hit him again, Ainariel! Hit him again!_

Note: We, the authors humbly suggest you become familiar with Veggie Tales before you read this. Seeing as if you don't, you may be confused . . . this story is also vaguely Christian as it is a VT/ TLOTR comedy, and tends to teach moral values. Eventually. There is NO SLASH. Period. Reviews and constructive criticism are gladly received and flames will be fed to Nienna's mini-balrog and mini-aragog (Frodi and Harmony are always hungry. Presents of bacon are also happily accepted.)

Disclaimer: Technically, there aren't supposed to be that many geniuses in the world. In that case, the 20th and 21st centuries have been incredibly blessed, because the Big Idea headquarters is swarming with them. There's also the matter of J.R.R. Tolkien, the creator of Middle-earth and all the original tales that surround it. He must be a super-genius or something. Just for clarification, we don't own any of these peoples' work. We're just the lowly fanfic writers who in great deference to these incredible people try to elaborate on what they've done. As one person wisely said, we are not even great enough to lick their shoes (which is a good thing since they would probably taste even worse than dried asparagi no offense, asparagi! cooked in cod liver oil, even if they the authors are geniuses.)

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Allow me to gaze into my palantir. Oh, let's say, to December of 2003. The premiere of the Return of the King. Can you imagine it? The anticipation that hangs in the air? This epic adventure brought to the silver screen. The excitement that lingers in all fans' hearts as–

"Do you have any idea where we're going?"

"Absolutely no clue. The map says there should be an exit in the next three miles. Eru strike me dead if there is."

"Have either of you seen a speed limit sign lately?"

"No, but I wouldn't worry about it. There haven't been cops around here for a half an hour. Drive like you're being chased by a Nazgul. The show starts in 2 hours."

"Do you think there's any hope of finding a rest stop anywhere? I, uhhh . . ."

Perhaps it was Fate who brought these three girls to this very spot that night. Or perhaps it was the fact that their maps were two decades old. But whether it was the maps or Fate, Lily, Nienna, and Ainariel found themselves on a country road, winding through a densely wooded area in unknown terrain. Their destination: the U.S. premiere of the Return of the King.

Ainariel, having been appointed navigator, was at the point of tearing out her hair from stress. The maps she had been given were crinkled and yellowed, and, obviously, told lies. Nienna was driving, and, from all appearances, was merely trying to keep her mind on the road. Or perhaps it was the thought of seeing Elijah Wood that kept her so quiet. The world may never know. Lily, contrary to both her companions, kept jubilant and incessantly sang songs. She had been named the "Took" of the bunch for apparent reasons.

_Now, Frodo Joe McBaggins was a really clumsy kid  
On the first day of Maggot's farm  
I'll tell you what he did  
He stole some fresh green cabbages  
and ran from Maggot's dogs  
fell upon a rock  
And then he tripped over a log _

_He needed first aid  
On the first day  
First aid on the first day   
First aid on the first day!  
You could heal an army with the athelas he took _

_Now, Frodo Joe McBaggins was a really clumsy kid  
On the second day of Brandywine  
I'll tell you what he did  
he ran from Nazgl's horses, and  
Jumped over a gap  
Landed face down clumsily  
Right on Samwise's lap _

_He needed first aid  
On the second day  
First aid on the second day   
First aid on the second day!  
You could heal an army with the athelas he took _

_Now, Frodo Joe McBaggins was a really clumsy kid  
On the third day of Breeland  
I'll tell you what he did  
While dancing to a silly song  
He fell upon his back  
The ring slipped upon his finger  
and then everything went black _

_He needed first aid  
On the third day  
First aid on the third dayFirst aid on the third day!  
You could heal an army with the athelas he took _

_Now, Frodo Joe McBaggins was a really clumsy kid  
On the fourth day of Weathertop  
I'll tell you what he did  
he ran up to a Nazgl  
tripped upon his cloak  
Landed on the flagstones  
By a Mogul blade was smote _

_He needed first aid –_

"Lily, we're kind of trying to find our exit. If you're going to sing, at least sing something that makes sense. And it's 'Morgul blade', not 'Mogul blade,'" snapped Ainariel irritably. "Do you think he's going to be stabbed by a skiing obstacle, or what?"

"C'mon, get in the spirit of the evening! It's just a typo! We're supposed to be happy! Sing with me!" an unabashed Lily replied, but threw in a classical tape to be friendly (after hitting Ainariel lightly on the head with it).

"Happy! We're lost!" Ainariel cried, turning on the dome light and peering once again at the discombobulated map.

"No, no, don't exaggerate," Lily said, "We just . . . don't know where we are . . . exactly."

She shrugged, then grinned nonchalantly. "It's an adventure!"

The three girls had been looking forward to this night for months upon months. Each was decked out in hobbit attire, including little green cloaks with leaf-like clasps. Their feet were bare, since all three had spent considerable time walking across gravel roads to get callouses to be like Frodo and his hobbit companions. To say that any of these girls had no life would be cruel. Though probably not untrue. Then again, the truth hurts. Especially after treading on very small rocks for hours on end.

"Nienna, could you put a little more acceleration in this? You're driving like an old man in a golf cart," said Ainariel, glancing pointedly at her watch again for emphasis. It read two seconds later than the last time she'd gazed upon it.

"Aaaah! There's a stoplight! What kind of perverse Ringwraith puts a stoplight in the middle of the woods!" the sudden burst of passionate confusion from Nienna caused both Lily and Ainariel to jump in surprise. She had kept relatively sane through the interesting drive.

"Stop for it! It's the law!"

"No, we're in a hurry! Law? I'll find a loophole! Who cares about the law? There aren't any cops!"

"Who cares! We could regret running it! Nienna, stop!"

"No! Aah . . . aah! Too late!" Laying on the horn just in case, Nienna sped the car through the intersection.

"You could have killed us!" Lily was very shaken.

"It isn't my fault! You two were yelling at me!" Nienna defended, "Anyway, we're still alive, so who cares?"

"What's that noise?" asked Ainariel. All three strained their ears, listening intently. Nienna slowed the car down, and the sound that reached their ears was far from comforting: sssssss...

"No, no, no, no, no, no . . . ." Ainariel groaned. They all knew what it was. The tires.

Nienna pulled the car over to the side of the road, putting it into park, and they all piled out to find the leak. It wasn't hard to spot. The upper right tire sagged pathetically, panting out its remaining air in exhausted gasps. "So . . .would you say this tire is half-empty or half-full?" was Lily's helpful contribution. She was silenced by the combined glares of the other two.

Shivering against the brutal wind of the December night, the three girls huddled outside of the car, yanking their cloaks close, stunned at their misfortune.

There was a moment of silence for the deceased tire. Ainariel coughed, her teeth chattering. "Do either of you have any shoes I could borrow?" she asked, quietly.

"We didn't bring any shoes, remember?" Nienna said, perhaps a little more indignantly than she had intended.

"Well, whose bright idea was it to go barefoot in December!" cried Ainariel, absolutely flabbergasted.

"Don't put the blame on me; you agreed," Lily snorted.

"Well . . ."

"Well, what?"

Several screams of excitement and surprise followed the newcomer's voice as all three girls scrambled to turn and see who had stumbled upon their council. Lily fumbled for her sword, but realized she didn't have one, so she and Nienna stood defiantly in front of the car, hoping that the man wasn't some kind of mugger. It was only a kindly old gentleman, but Ainariel was ready for all circumstances, and his appearance didn't stop her slamming him backwards with her purse. Crying out, he sprawled on the asphalt, crumpled and helpless. Not one of the girls was very concerned with the man; eventually, however, as he was just lying there groaning, Ainariel glanced at the others nervously trying to regain her composure.

"Maybe he knows where we could find a spare tire . . . then we could continue on."

"Oh, like I want you to navigate again," Nienna responded angrily. "You're the one who got us here in the first place." Ainariel's eyes slitted angrily.

"I wasn't the one who sped through a red light and managed to pop the tire!"

"Sorry, but could you two stop it? Only the show starts soon, and I'd rather be in the middle of a movie and a bottle of root beer than a squabble."

The two spun on Lily. "We weren't exactly helped by your singing," was Ainariel's vicious comment.

"I was just . . . getting us into the mood."

"You were just getting into the mood!" Nienna raged. "You could have gotten us killed! You kept singing, and _wouldn't shut up!_ How do you expect me to drive when you're screaming in my ear? That's almost as helpful as Miss 'of course I can navigate.' What's your problem? 'Oh no,' you say. 'I'm sorry. I was just getting into the mood.' Well sometimes that isn't good enough. Why did I ever let myself get stuck with you two? Nothing is worth _this!_"

"You know, I think you three need to learn some compassion." The man hoisted himself into a sitting position. "And mercy." He was on his feet now, but kept glancing at Ainariel like she was going to leap forward and smite him again, which wasn't far from the truth.

"Compassion?" Lily ventured, looking like she'd heard the word but was having trouble piecing together a definition. "Er, wait, I think I know that one . . . hold on a minute . . . it's on the tip of my tongue . . ."

"Mercy? Compassion? You're going to give us a lesson in mercy and compassion when ROTK comes out in an hour and a half? Couldn't this wait?" The would-be teacher shifted back a little, but otherwise appeared unfazed (and a little confused) at Nienna's comment.

"What's ROTK?" He asked.

"The-Return-Of-The-King."

He considered this new revelation for a moment. "Would that not be TROTHK?"

Lily tried that out. "Trothk. _trothka. TRot_ . . . oh. Sorry." After a second Nienna and Ainariel's stares were redirected at the stranger again. He cleared his throat, a little uneasily.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are Tolkien fans?" he inquired. The girls' glances went from him to their apparel. How could it be otherwise? They were clad in hobbit frocks and dark cloaks, and were barefoot! In the dead of winter! What other hair-brained idiot would dress like that in December but a die-hard Tolkien freak?

"Then maybe I should tell this story in a way you can understand it," the old man continued. Lily's eyes lit up at the thought of a new story, but Ainariel was apprehensive. She wasn't quite over her shock, and the old man still seemed suspicious, especially when he added: "Here, why don't you all come to my cabin – it's not far, and it'll be warmer there."

"You don't honestly think we're going to follow you to your house, do you?" Ainariel was not about to be duped this easily.

"I have a phone. You can call a tow truck from there."

"Come on, guys, what's he going to do?" The idea of a story still fascinated Lily, and a cozy cabin sounded a lot better right now than freezing asphalt and a helpless car. "He just wants to help us. Plus, if he tries anything, Ainariel's already proven she can take him . . . er, no offense, sir."

"This is a bad idea," Nienna said. She was, if possible, even warier than Ainariel. "You guys, really. At least one of us should be careful, and stay out here, or something. I wish we had a cell-phone, now. So much for the 'Hobbits don't have them, why should I?' attitude. He could be dangerous – we're out in the middle of who-knows-where! No offense, sir . . ."

"Don't worry, no-one can stand against . . . ta-da-ta . . . Lily-Girl!" Lily struck a pose, beaming.

"Lily-Girl?" Ainariel asked. The term sounded familiar – even more so as Lily began to hum a tune. It was the theme song from something, she knew it. But what?

"Oh, no. Not _again_." Nienna was doing her best to act like she had never laid eyes on Lily and was just an extremely embarrassed stranger. As it was pretty obvious they knew each other, it wasn't working. "Lily, isn't _The Lord of the Rings_ enough right now?"

Lily smiled and issued the preliminary words of what was sure to be a defense of the wondrous ways of "Why just speak excitedly about one subject when you could _sing_ about two or more" . . . etc. when Ainariel, sensing that this had the makings of a _long_ dialogue, spoke up.

"Look, let's just go. It's getting colder by the minute, and I can always hit him with my purse if he tries anything." Her gaze shifted to glower at the man sideways, just to indicate she was serious.

A slight bit of terror filled the man's eyes at this proposition, but obviously as eager to exit the freezing outdoors as soon as possible and narrate his tale, he merely said, "The cabin's this way. Just follow me."

"I still think this is a bad idea," muttered Nienna as they began to stroll quickly down the winding dirt path leading into the woods. "But does anyone ever listen to me?"

"Don't worry, I'm still listening, Nienna," remarked Lily, patting her shoulder. "Even if you do worry way too much."

"Oh, thanks."

The cabin was heaven. The girls were sure of it. Toastier than a beautiful July afternoon, the warm, smooth wood of the floor was outdone only by the soft rug, woven of the coziest twirls of color the world could devise. Breathing deeply of the crisp, crackling scents coming from flame and hewn pine, Lily spun in bliss, skirt flaring out. Nienna and Ainariel were only slightly less excited.

"Oh, thank you," Ainariel gushed, rubbing her arms to warm up. "You have no idea how good this feels."

"Ahhh . . . I can feel my toes again." Nienna sighed, then narrowed her eyes at Lily, who stopped swirling around to meet her gaze, "Of course, they wouldn't have _been_ numb in the first place if it weren't for a certain 'hobbit' and her 'if Frodo can do it, I can too' attitude.

"Hey," Lily protested, "we'd have been fine if the tire hadn't popped."

"Oh, so it's _my_ fault now, is it?"

"Um, I'm going to go call a tow truck," Ainariel edged away, turning to the man. "Could you tell me where the phone is?"

"Over there, on the table."

"Thanks."

Meanwhile, Nienna and Lily were still arguing.

" . . .And now we're in a strange house – "

" – Cabin."

Nienna intensified her glare. "Same thing. Anyway a strange _habitation_ with a strange man whose name we _still_ don't know . . ."

Perhaps recognizing that at last here was a problem she _could_ solve, Lily whipped toward the man. "Oy! What's your name?"

Although a little astounded at Lily's needing to call out loudly in a one room cabin, he responded. "Tom. Tom 'Bombur' Dil."

Lily considered this. "Why do you have quotation marks around your middle name?"

"My mother enjoyed the sound it made. Now why don't you three come over and sit by the fire while I tell you this tale?"

"Um, Ainariel's still by the phone." Nienna noted.

"Actually, I'm not," she stated disgustedly, striding over. "They needed an address, and of course I couldn't give them one." She scowled at the man as if it were his fault she hadn't asked for an address before calling.

"Let's just listen to the story," Lily suggested, "and maybe we can figure out what to do afterwards."

"Yeah, like when ROTK's already over and it doesn't matter anyway," Nienna grumbled, but followed them over nevertheless. Within moments she was enjoying the comforts of a large armchair, smothered in a woven throw, while Lily and Ainariel curled up on opposite ends of the small couch, snuggling into the pillows, sneaking their frozen toes into the creases between the cushions. As for Tom "Bombur" Dil, he was reclining in a rocking chair, puffing at a long, clay pipe, pushing himself back and forth, back and forth . . .at least until Lily complained of dizziness. Then he ceased, and began to speak.

"Now when Tolkien penned that literary masterpiece, _The Lord of the Rings_," he opened, "he wrote down what actually happened. Or at least one version of it, for as with every story, there are different points of view on what actually occurred. This story takes place in Middle-earth, at the time of the War of the Ring, and includes the Fellowship and all the other familiar elements found in _The Lord of the Rings_, but it is not quite the same tale. You see . . ."

"Hold it," Nienna demanded, "this isn't going to be a breach of canon, is it? There aren't any Mary-sues in this story? Because if there are . . ." she trailed off meaningfully, indicating that her ensuing actions if it were would not be pleasant.

"That is up to you." Tom smiled.

"What do you mean?" Lily was perplexed. "I'm confused. You're the one telling the story."

"Am I?" Tom smiled once again, sending another smoke cloud sailing toward the three girls. Lily, who abhorred anything having to do with tobacco, hacked meaningfully. The man ignored her.

Those were the last spoken words (and hacks) the girls heard for a while, as their vision was clouded in purple. Ainariel thought for a moment that it was the smoke from the pipe, but a second later, she knew she was wrong. The oddest sensation swelled up in them – like they were both sinking and floating, breathing and suffocating, inventing and destroying, and, for an even weirder addition to this already terrifying mix, like they were savoring a piece of chocolate cake with no flavor. At least this made Nienna happy. She didn't like chocolate cake.


	2. Nienna Faces the Music and Many Meetings

The Larry of the Rings -- Episode 2

_Back to Middle-earth. Wait . . . back? It's time for Nienna to face the Music and Many Meetings._

Nienna was the last one to awaken. Peering up into the blinding sun through a headache that would make even a female Uruk groan in agony, she groaned in agony. Drat. Redundancy. Bad form, Nienna! So instead of groaning in agony, Nienna studied her surroundings. They were horribly bright. A bird began to sing. Ugh. Horribly bright _and_ overly-poetic. Ahem:

_Delicate sunlight descended gently, flowing fondly through the baby-blue sky, rays a nurturing shower of love caressing the earth Far above, a single bird floated on the sweetness of the soft air, tender sunbeams, and fresh, intoxicating scents of flowers shyly unfolding their petals to bask in the sun's glowing affection, so freely given. Enchanted by this perfect harmony of soil and sky, freedom, poetics, redundancy and beauty, Nienna sighed lightly, reveling in the frail, whispering grass, verdant and young, as she nestled into it. Joyfully acquiescing, it formed a lovely bed for her round body._ Hold it . . . round body?

"We're in Middle-earth!" someone exclaimed gleefully, but Nienna didn't seem to hear it. Round body. Round _red_ body. Small, round red body with no hair and a smell Nienna didn't particularly like. Small, round, _squishy_ red body with no hair, a nasty smell, no hands, no legs . . .

"Oh, no," Nienna prayed. "Please don't let this happen, God. Not . . . not . . . I mean, I love Veggie Tales . . . I just didn't expect . . . oh, please no . . ."

It was too late. What was done, was done. Nienna, sensible as they come, well built but slender, a little too sane for her TLOTR obsession, was a vegetable. A tomato, to be precise. "Nooooo . . .!"

"We're in Middle-earth, Rivendell to be ex-act, we're in Middle-earth – c'mon, Ainariel, sing with me! We're in Middle-earth . . ."

Rivendell? Seriously? Eager to see, Nienna shook her head – well, now almost her whole body – and stood up. Kind of. Actually, she looked almost exactly as she had when she had been sitting, only taller. Vague memories of "this is sitting, this is standing," flitted through her mind, but the line didn't seem so funny now. Maybe Lily and Ainariel could help sort her out. They sounded like their regular selves (not that _that_ was much comfort). Anything was possible. Right.

Hmmmm . . . how was she to turn around? Wait, what about what Larry had said in his work-out video – "squeeze, and jump!" Oh, joy. She was going to take instructions from Larry. Still . . . it was worth a try. Hunkering down in what she hoped was a squeeze, she leaped up, bouncing into the air and plummeting down in . . . exactly the same position. Great. Well, it was kind of fun . . . No! Nienna wouldn't let herself think so optimistically. There was too much wrong with the world without _that_ happening. In any case, it wouldn't hurt to just try and turn around regularly. Seeing as Bob did it all the time, it had to be possible. Shift . . .lean . . aha! Take that, you sqeeze-a-holics!

Twisting around, she gasped. Emerald swathes of land lay ahead, leading up to the most picturesque and lovely sight of all – The Last Homely House. True, she couldn't be sure of its identity, but the beauty, the isolation, and, above all, the feeling of rest and welcome it exuded – even from relatively far away – convinced her. Then her gaze lowered, and was confronted by the sight of an asparagus and a cucumber hopping around in the pure exuberance of a Tolkien fan who's been transported to Middle-earth. All feelings of relaxation vanished. So she wasn't the only one. Not only that, but judging by the way the two of them were springing about as if everything were normal, they appeared oblivious to their condition. "Um . . ." Nienna began.

"I know! I know!" Lily exclaimed in her unquenchable gaiety. "Let's sing the L urlhttp/ of the Cebú/L"

"Okay, okay – you start!" Ainariel answered. "I can never remember all the words." Nienna rolled her eyes in her uniquely long-suffering manner. Why did they have to sing? And _why_ was there now a trans-realital link to the actual "Ultimate Veggie" site magically shimmering in the air? Sheesh.

"Cebú! This is a song about a little boy . . . a song about a little boy and his Cebús . . . a song about a little boy and his three Cebús . . . and also a hippo . . ."

Slowly growing louder, a music enveloped the three vegetables, as Lily the Cucumber and Ainariel Asparagus sang the Song of the Cebú. "Of course," Nienna muttered to herself. "I get to be a tomato of all things – at least they're green. And – hey, where's that music coming from?"

Peering around with malignant inquisitiveness, she searched for the source of the music. Well, it was obvious – everywhere. "I'm going to kill that old man when we get back. A lesson indeed! I mean, Rivendell is great . . . but as a vegetable? Why even send us here? This is ridiculous! I mean, unless all that quantum stuff was true . . . but really, it's dangerous! And why can't you shut up?" Nienna suddenly shouted at Lily and Ainariel. "I have a headache. Ibuprofen, do either of you have Ibuprofen?"

"Nope! Sorry!" Lily shot back, then engaged herself once more in the song, finishing it. "Oh, wait, that's a water buffalo. Ainariel! Nienna! I did it! I did it! I finally sang the Song of the Cebú right! I mean, my voice was absolutely perfect! I can never get my Larry imitation to work, and that was perfect without me even trying! This is great! Did you hear the music? I mean, wow . . ." Lily drifted off, finally noticing Nienna, who was scowling in a way only made possible by the serious and possibly explosive situation of being a tomato in Middle Earth with no Ibuprofen soothe her. Nienna liked Ibuprofen. It was the cure for everything.

"Lily, Ainariel, stop! Are you listening to me? Lily? Lily! Ainariel! Are you insane? Have you looked around you? We're in Middle-earth!" Didn't they realize the danger of what was going on? Oh, sure, Nienna had always wanted to visit M.E. . . . but as a vegetable? No!

"Yeah, isn't it awesome?"

"No! It's deadly! Don't you pay any attention? I know this is Rivendell, but there could be orcs, or Nazgûl, or . . . or, I don't know! We could _die_! This isn't some fun-and games, let's-just-mess-up-the-canon Mary-Sue! This is real!"

"Oh come off it, Nienna," said Lily cheerfully. Nienna started. Was it just her, or was Lily's voice higher? There was definitely a nasal tone to it, too. "What do you expect? That some wraith is just going to walk into Rivendell to hurt us? 'Hi, I'm a Nazgûl, and I'm here to kill you.' Really . . ."

Lily and Ainariel laughed. "We could join the Fellowship," Ainariel suggested, her eyes brightened, excited at the chance.

"What?" Nienna screeched. "You _are_ crazy! That is the Mary-Suedom of all Mary-Sues! Join the Fellowship! What makes you even think that they're here right now, ready to leave? Oh, so this just happens to be the right time, age, week, whatever! I mean . . . and . . . and . . ."

"Nienna, it's okay. I'll protect you!" said Lily.

"Protect –" Nienna started furiously, but was interrupted by Ainariel.

"Yeah, don't spaz about it. It's going to be okay. Maybe even fun," she added.

"We're _vegetables_ in case you hadn't noticed," said Nienna, squeezing her eyes shut, unnaturally calm after her spurt of indignation. "I am a tomato. I am big and red. That's like the whole 'shoot here, I'm a really obvious two foot target thing.' And you're like twice my height!" she slowly looked up, a low fire burning in her black eyes. "You two don't even care that _we are going to die!_ Probably. You're a cucumber, Lily, in case you haven't noticed."

Lily glanced down to break her contact with Nienna's intense gaze and a slight: "Oh. I thought everything looked bigger because I was a hobbit," was heard. Still, she wasn't fazed for long, and her smile reappeared. Who cared what she was as long as she was in Middle-earth? Ainariel had apparently come to the same conclusion, and was about to speak when Nienna continued in a low voice.

"And Ainariel is an asparagus. But look at me," Nienna's voice was no longer devoid of emotion, but laden with a sudden sarcasm. "Aren't I beautiful?"

"Oh, stop complaining," Ainariel said, hopping forward. "Who cares? This is Middle-earth! Land of the . . . um . . . of the people who live in Middle-earth! The hobbits . . . and . . . people . . . elves, and dwarves, and everything!"

"Yes, that's my point! Orcs! Wraiths! Balrogs! It's dangerous here! And we are vegetables. I just can't stop thinking about that salad I ate last night . . . this is a nightmare! Why couldn't I have been something awesome and powerful! I wish I were home; I wish I were home; I wish I were home! Click, click . . . ohhhhh!" She opened one eye, secretly expectant of Lily catching the quote. It wasn't that Nienna really wanted to be home, exactly. This felt like where she belonged (she was, after all, a Tolkien freak) but as a tomato? Panic . . .

Lily waited politely until Nienna was done ranting. "You don't have to be so _low_ about it," she told the tomato helpfully. "I mean, you still are – what did you say? – two feet tall. And I'm like four. Oh, but good 'Rack Shack and Benny' quote. Hee hee. Auntie Em, Auntie Em!" Ha! she got it!

"Anyway," said Ainariel kindly. "We all like Veggie Tales, right? I mean, this isn't so bad. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Or just makes you really, really sick," added Lily brightly.

"Aaahhhhhhhhooooooooooooo!" Not surprisingly, Nienna was not comforted – on the contrary, howling like a wolf was apparently the only way of expressing her feelings. She was odd like that sometimes.

"You know the difference between you and me?" Lily asked. Another opportunity to quote had popped up, and she knew to never let one skid by. Who knew when it would appear again? (Besides the next time someone spoke.) "You see Rivendell as half-empty, but _I_ see Rivendell as half-full."

"What? I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

"Neither do I."

"You know," said Ainariel slowly, thinking out loud. "It could be a lot worse."

"But not much better!" Lily exclaimed. She did stop to consider Ainariel's words for a moment, then: "I mean, unless suddenly a –"

"No! Don't say that!" Nienna burst out in warning. "If you say that, it'll come true!"

Lily smiled mischievously. "You know, Nienna, it could be a lot worse . . ."

"Lily, Nienna, look!" Ainariel interrupted, attempting to point into the trees. It was then that she found out: "Hey, I don't have hands! How am I supposed to point? Well, uh, look that way . . . no, no . . . THAT way." She kept having to nod her head vigorously and roll her eyes in the direction she wanted them to see, which got rather tiresome after a while. Nienna, who had figured it out after the first couple times, sighed. Ainariel stopped. "But in the bushes, there's someone coming. He's green, and –"

"Archibald? Jonah?" Nienna gasped suddenly recognizing the asparagus with veggie-sight. Finally someone (semi-) sane! Yes! She couldn't help herself from grinning widely, even though she felt obliged to mutter in response to Lily's side-long look: "Okay, so maybe something worse won't _always_ happen."

"Somebody just said your line, Traveling Buddy!" came a voice from behind Archibald. "The one you said in the belly of the whale."

"This is really not the time, Carlyle. And I would rather not talk about that."

And then _he_ noticed the three girls – two ecstatic, the third craning her, um, lack of neck to get a better view of someone whose rockers were not permanently off-balance. Standing four-and-a-half feet tall, Archibald Asparagus was one of the most handsome vegetables in existence.

"Hey, Ainariel, why isn't he wearing his red bow tie?" Lily whispered.

"I don't know. Maybe he got cold and decided to put on the Jonah robes. I wouldn't want to run around wearing just a bow-tie either."

"Shhh," Nienna hissed. Yes, it was definitely Archibald. The monocle gave him away. Straightening up, and desperately attempting to not look like a large, scarlet tomato (which was hard,) Nienna watched eagerly as he approached, a slightly bemused expression on his face.

"Oh, my," he inquired politely. His British accent didn't ring melodiously through the fair land of Rivendell, but it was nice all the same, especially to accent addicts such as the trio. "Who are you?"

"Um, um . . ." For one of the first times in her life that didn't include either sleeping or eating, Nienna's comebacks were in short supply. (Meaning she had the current verbal abilities of a sick, sad, mute, and possibly dead wombat.)

Ainariel took over, saving Nienna from unnecessary stuttering. "I'm Ainariel, and these are my friends, Nienna and Lily. We know who you are – Archibald Asparagus. Nice Jonah outfit."

"Hi, ah, Mr. Asparagus sir," said Lily with surprising shyness. "How are you this . . . fine day," she asked tentatively, blushing a darker shade of green.

"Well, ah, thank you. However, I seem to be at a loss of our present location?" Archibald asked, looking a little overwhelmed. Nienna supposed he wasn't very used to female vegetables who somehow knew his name acting so strangely around him. "I was sent here to deliver a message to the –" he checked a scroll to make sure – "'orcs,' the real Jonah being dead and all."

"Oh, good," Nienna muttered happily. "He _is_ sane." In a louder voice, she added, "We are in Middle-earth, in a place called Rivendell. I can tell you about it if you like."

"Yes, thank you," Archibald answered politely.

"Okay," chirped Lily. Then: "You guys go ahead, we'll catch up!"

"Lily," Ainariel said patiently. "You don't have to sing."

"But it's a –"

"It is the beautiful young asparagus!" Khalil burst in, finally popping from where he had be stuck in Archibald's scrolls in all his caterpillar glory. Well, that is not exactly accurate: his mother was a caterpillar, his father was a worm. He had a weird family. Deep, but weird. "It is your beautiful young asparagus from Nineveh! She has come!"

"Um, no," Archibald began.

"Even though you broke her heart when you told the people in Tarshish about the camel thieves, she still loves you! Ah, true love! Matchmaking runs very deep in my family." Ainariel groaned and looked at Archibald for help on how to deal with the little blue worm . . . caterpillar . . . thing.

"I would advise you ignore him," Archibald told her. "Now what was this about Middle-earth?"

"Middle-earth! Isn't it great? I always _knew_ we'd get here someday!" Lily burst out. "Now I can finally visit the Shire, and see – actually _see_ Tookland!" For a moment she appeared lost in joy. Noticing Archibald's curious look, she found herself so she could enlighten him: "The Shire. Home to hobbits. Hoybtla. Pheriannath. Or, as Treebeard said, 'And, hungry as hunters, the hobbit children, the laughing folk, the little people.' They're the best race in Middle-earth by far! Always kind, always friendly, short (and shortness is virtue, you know). The orcs found _that_ out in the Battle of the Greenfields, in 1147 Shire Reckoning, when . . ."

"Lily, I think Nienna was trying to say something," Ainariel told Lily, stopping her in mid-sentence, while glancing again over to a not-so-happy-to-be-interrupted-when-she-was-speaking-to-her-favorite-asparagus-from-VeggieTales Nienna.

"Yes, yes, now –"

Suddenly Nienna had a plan to keep Lily away from her conversation with Archibald. It wasn't the nicest plan, but it was tricky, and she liked it. "It's Lily's fault . . ." she began quietly, just so Lily could hear it.

"It's Lily's fault?" she asked. Then, from all around them, music started up. "Oh!" Lily exclaimed at the same time Ainariel said "That works."

"Figures the sound pops up when _she_ sings," Nienna muttered.

"What works?" Archibald asked, getting his answer from Lily, however indirectly.

Grinning from green-lack of ear to nose and back again, Lily began hopping about. "It's Lily's fault, she broke the plate, I couldn't stop her," she began to sing for no apparent reason save that there was music. Nienna thought it might have been a disease. The sound swelled, despite the fact that there was no evidence of shattered flatware in the area. Ainariel, after wondering for a moment if she could be doing something more useful, joined in. "She said she had to demonstrate her apple chopper." Unfortunately, Ainariel's hopes of drowning out Khalil were fruitless, as he was now crying:

"You knew all along the beautiful young asparagus from Nineveh would be here! What is her name?"

"Rivendell is the home of elves," Nienna told Archibald. "It's lovely here – but I have a bad feeling about this. You see, we could be in any time or place in the history of Middle-earth – and not all eras in this place are peaceful."

"What are you saying?" Archibald called over the racket – meaning the combined singing, dancing, and exclaiming of Lily, Ainariel, and Khalil. "I can't hear you!"

"The apple-chopper worked just great, but chopped right through your bowling plate! Come and sing with us, Nienna!"

"And you too, Archibald," Ainariel added a second later.

"Um, no thank you," he responded, rather more politely than Nienna would have.

"Could you please walk – hop – over here a little way with me?" Nienna requested. "I'll explain once we can hear. It should be quieter."

"I'm sorry?"

"Come-with-me!"

"No, no, no, let's do it this way! The apple chopper worked just fine, it ate the plate in double-time . . ." Lily and Ainariel had begun to do the veggie version of the Jitterbug (quite a feat, considering Nienna had just learned to successfully hop without tripping over. And she was normally the one with good balance, too.)

"She has forgiven you! This is wonderful! Forgiveness runs very deep in my family." Khalil seemed perfectly exuberant. Finally, one of his 'predictions' had come 'true.' He was getting more dramatic by the second. "My mother always forgave my father, you know. And my grandfather, now he . . ."

"Dude, I'm _not_ part of your family!" cried Ainariel, at last, whirling to face Khalil. "Could you chill? I'm not his beautiful, young asparagus! I – I'm . . ."

"A fork? No, that's not right," came a drift of part of Nienna's and Archibald's 'conversation.' "What? Oh . . ."

"It's Lily's fault she broke the plate, it's true! And that's the tale I have to tell to you!"

"Can you hear me now?" Nienna asked Archibald tentatively, suddenly feeling shy of this strange asparagus. After all, what if he wasn't . . . well, in any case, he nodded. "Right. Okay, I'm not sure how to explain this – but what are you supposed to do?"

"No more than you already know," Archibald answered. "He wants me to bring a message to the orcs – a standard 'Turn and Repent.' Why?"

"Well, as I said, we are in a place called Middle-earth, in Rivendell, to be exact." Lily beamed at being accidentally quoted. "Now M.E – That's Middle-earth – was created by a man named J.R.R. Tolkien. Rivendell, luckily, is one of the safest places we could land – but it is nowhere near the orcs. Elves live here."

"Well perhaps they would be willing to give me instructions," Archibald said.

"No! I shall guess her name, you do not need to tell me!" Khalil leapt down from Archibald's scrolls, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Names run very deep in my family."

"Stop, okay?" You're getting on my nerves." Ainariel was talking in vain now; Khalil wasn't listening. As usual. And she was still too close to block his voice out.

"Please, Carlyle," Archibald moaned. "Go and speak to her if you want to know."

"Now, let's see – not Zelk or Busa or anything like that. It must be beautiful, for she is a beautiful young asparagus!" Khalil didn't seem to feel hindered by this unnecessary reiteration of previously stated comments, and continued to emit a steady stream of sound. Apparently he hadn't been this excited about anything since the Old Testament.

"Anyway," Nienna said, finally tearing her eyes away from Khalil's annoying – yet strangely fascinating – spectacle "I'll try and give you a synopsis of what I know, but it might take a while even so. And I don't think the others can keep themselves occupied in a – in a _safe_ manner for much longer. We have to hurry."

"It is _Pariwash!_ Her name is 'Beautiful!' Why didn't I see it before?" Khalil clapped his tiny hands together in glee. "Oh what a goose I am!"

"No! Gosh! No! It's not 'Pariwash' or whatever you said! It's Ainariel! Ainariel! For goodness sake!"

"Poor Ainariel," Nienna mused, before turning her attention back to Archibald once more, and smiling brightly up at him. "Okay now about Middle-earth . . .uh, oh, too late (ha, ha)."

"Hey, Archibald," Lily asked, hopping up to him and leaving poor Ainariel to deal with Khalil by herself. She wanted to say something useful, but couldn't seem to think of anything. It was time to pull out the joke for every situation. "So . . . why did the peanut eat the other peanut?" she asked quickly.

"I don't know. Why did the peanut eat the other peanut?" Archibald queried innocently. A suddenly protectiveness of this strange (well, no, not strange, not really) asparagus flooded Nienna, and she abruptly felt that she could not let the cucumber by her side answer that seemingly innocuous question. Using all her skill and long-honed habit, Nienna attempted to kick Lily. It may have worked slightly better if Nienna had had legs.

As it was, the tomato promptly fell over. On a downhill slope. She didn't even have time to say the well known "Oh, dear. . . ." You see, while the attempt to silence Lily had been accomplished . . .

"Why is the big tomato rolling away from us? Have you scared her? Khalil asked from beside Ainariel. "Are you going to save her like you saved the beautiful young asparagus from Ninevah?" Ainariel groaned. So he hadn't forgotten her.

"Excuse me, but he did not – "

"See?" said Khalil triumphantly, "You can no longer even deny it was you!"

"Hello? Someone? Aaah!" Nienna cried, hitting a tree root and abruptly stopping. "Oh, yeah, that hurt. Thanks _so_ much, Lily."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault!"

"It's Lily's fault . . ."Ainariel muttered under her breath, getting combined stared from the others. "Oh, I get it. It's not funny when _I_ say it." But instead of the music from "Lily's fault" starting in the background, a very different song began . . .

"Ann needs a hero!" Lily declared, standing erectly and posing in front of . . . well, the non-existent camera. "I . . . am . . . that . . . hero!"

Nienna started. "What did you just call me?"

"Don't worry, citizen. Lily-girl shall save the day!" and to the astonished disbelief of the others (save, perhaps, the all-knowing background music), shining metal began to materialize around Lily's head – a gleaming amber helmet that fitted snugly over her eyes and featured a bold crest at the top that petered out as it descended. From the sides of this enviably fashionable headgear gravely sprouted a pair of rubbery pink plunger ears – invaluable tools with which our heroine could seize the enemy (if enemy there be that dared to face her). A cerulean dress was next, garbing Lily-girl in highest hobbit fashion (in the event that hobbits developed a taste for spandex). Now attired in the strangest mishmash of apparel any of the crew (save Archibald's inner alter ego Alfred) had ever seen, she announced boldly: "Fear not! I'm coming, though it be where no cucumber has gone before!" And with that, she hopped forward, followed by a curious, but cautious, Ainariel, Archibald, and Khalil. After all, if Lily really was crazy, they wanted to be as far back as possible.

No such luck for Nienna, who was starting to look a little odd herself. Not so much as Lily, but the tomato seemed more and more the victim to be rescued. Perhaps it was the intimidating effect of the music. She obviously still had her mind, though, as she cried out: "Wow, Lily, um, no. Stay back! Archibald, Ainariel, could you help me?" the tomato looked desperately to the others. Not to Khalil, though. She was in enough trouble. "No, wait, I've got it," Nienna said in relief hoisting herself upright, and looking so much like her typical self that the others wondered if she had every seemed strange to them. She quickly ducked just in time to avoid:

"Plunger-ears to the rescue!" Leaping into the air, Lily shot out one of the plungers, which barely missed Nienna, and attached itself, along with Lily, to a tree. "Hey! But . . . wait . . . don't you need saving, Ann? Don't worry . . . nothing can defeat . . ." Already, with no apparent need to exist, her new-found outfit was melting back into nothingness, depositing her back on the ground with a thump. Blinking, Lily, now normal once again, looked up in confusion. "Um, why am I lying in the dirt? And why are you so beat up, Nienna? You look like you just tumbled down a hill. You didn't fall, did you?"

Nienna just glared.

**Author's Notes**:

Um, here are some bloopers for the enjoyment of y'all!

1. "I'm a tomato, I'm big and read."

2. "She said she had to demonstrate her apple hopper." Unfortunately, Ainariel's hopes of drowning out Khalil were fruitless, as he was not crying:

3. Already, with no apparent need to exist, her new-found outfit was melting back into nothingness, depositing her back on the ground with a thumb.

4. Nienna didn't sem to here it.

5. "Someone just said your line, Traveling Buddy! The one you ate in the belly of the whale!"

This part was written by Nienna Telrunya, Lily Took and Ainariel.

Oh, and for all you who have been wondering? I, Nienna have not seen the Larry of the Bean (the only episode I haven't seen), nor has Lily, and I don't know about Ainariel. This story was concieved at the first two parts written in 2003, so that episode has no bearing whatsoever on the plot or characters.


	3. Hey, ho, to the council we go!

The Larry of the Rings -- Episode 3

_Hey, ho, to the council we go!_

In which we are NOT Mary-sues, and do NOT wish to go with the Fellowship, and did NOT intend for the Nazgûl Who Don't Do Anything to make us.

Recap: We, Ainariel, Lily and Nienna, have been transported to Middle-earth by Tom "Bomber" Dil . . . as vegetables. There we meet a handsome asparagus (Archibald) and see yet another side to the ever-hyper Lily: Lily-girl!

Disclaimer: We own nothing. Except that which we do own. Right, now that that's all cleared up. . . .

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As our three heroines walked along in the company of Archibald Asparagus and Khalil, they came to something that made even Lily stop humming her annoying little ditty. (It was something called "Duck Soup," which we can only imagine she made up herself.) There before them stood -- or rather sat, as it was not particularly tall -- a place magnificent in its simplicity. Few words can rightly describe the loveliness of the House of Elrond, and few humans have the poetry to do so. Therefore, though it is not a sufficient description, it is at least possible to say that the dwelling was wondrous beyond the words of any who saw it for the first time, and cannot be rightly told in expressions -- it is a song among screeching, and a sanctuary for weary travelers to find rest . . . even if they are weary from nothing more than the constant smell of vegetables (themselves,) singing and nonsensical conversation that is actually quite intelligent, if you are apt to listening long enough.

"Oh . . . my . . . gosh . . ." Lily said, abusing the poor ellipses who had to work extra hard when she was around. It was bad enough when _normal _people came to Rivendell, but this was insane. "Holy cow . . ."

"Cool," Ainariel added shortly. A moment later she was done looking at the house and decided that while it was pretty, she didn't have a camera anyway and it was no good gawking. There were more important things. "Archibald," she asked. "What do vegetables eat? Dirt?"

Archibald turned slowly to look at her. If I knew vegetable expressions, I'm sure his face would have been covered with one word: _what? _Being a sensible vegetable who was quite often too polite to say exactly what he thought, Archibald responded with: "Um . . . no," the poor ellipses groaned in agony. Well, at least it wasn't Lily this time . . . ah! We used ourselves! The ellipses grabbed a notebook from the universe of punctuation, and wrote: _Note to self: don't use self. Oh, and stay away from large, talking vegetables._

"They eat meat, duh," Lily answered. "Remember 'my crab legs are getting cold.'?"

"You have crab legs?" Khalil asked, looking at her curiously.

"Yes, can't you see them sticking out of me?" Lily asked. "It was a line from the show. Hee, hee, sarcasm is not above me." She continued to laugh until she was silenced by the combined stares of the others in the group.

"You know those nuts you bought the other day, Lily?" Nienna inquired. "Now remember that saying 'you are what you eat'?"

"Yeah . . ." Lily said, causing the pained ellipses to scream. "Hey, that wasn't very nice!" Lily suddenly exclaimed, realizing the implications of what Nienna had said.

"Hey look, there's the council!" Ainariel exclaimed, totally disregarding the suddenness of her outcry, as well as the fact that it had very little if not nothing to do with the rest of the conversation. Nevertheless, all of the others turned toward where she was staring. The council was indeed there -- not ten yards (one hobbit and several rather large species of plant life) in front of them.

For possibly the first time in her life (or at least the last five minutes) Lily shut up and stayed that way.

A few days prior . . .

Giggling innocuously to himself, Larry the Nazgûl lay back on the shore of the Bruinen, basking in the sunlight and sipping a blue slushie. Joining Larry in his consumption of liquid sugar are his fellow Nazgûl Pa Grape and Mr. Lunt who together make up the infamous gang of scallywags, the Nazgûl Who Don't Do Anything. These three have long been the bane of the other Nazgûl though pure effect of being unstoppably lazy and good-natured. And neither laziness nor good-naturedness are traits that the Nazgûl uphold with pride. That is why one day, a few centuries before, the Witchking had come up to them and told them very sternly (in a hissy, screechy voice):

"Begone from our ranks and let none know of you! For while you are one of us always, we shall not make fools of Mordor by your presence! From this day forward, there will be nine Nazgûl, and nine only!"

It was quite a speech from the big man, and Larry, in due form, replied brightly:

"Okay!"

And that was that.

"Do either of you have an extra straw?" Pa Grape asked in a low, gravelly voice, turning to his companions. "Mine has gone all runny in the sun."

"That is because you insisted on making it out of chocolate," Mr. Lunt reminded him, not unkindly. "My plastic straw is holding up just fine."

Pa Grape looked mournfully at Mr. Lunt's non-runny straw, his own dribbling a deep brown on his impressive Nazgûl robes.

"Here, you can have my extra one," Larry offered eleemosynarily (another trait looked down upon by Nazgûl 1-9) holding it up.

"Thanks."

Larry smiled at him, then took out his extra robe, which he rolled up for a back pillow.

Then the three of them were silent for a while, content with basking in the sun which was made even warmer by the eerie black of their robes. (Or, rather, robes that would have been an eerie black had they not been sprinkled with blue slushie and, in Pa Grape's case, chocolate.)

The day drew on and the afternoon late.

Then suddenly, and without warning (which is what "suddenly" _means_), lively music began to place, bouncing over the rushing water and around the Nazgûl. Well familiar with this phenomenon (being originally of a place in which it was quite common, and having particularly enjoyed singing to the other Nazgûl in earlier times) the three of them straightened and began to sing:

_We are the Nazgûl  
__Who Don't Do Anything;  
__We just stay home  
__And lie around . . .  
__And if you ask us  
__To do anything  
__We'll just tell you:_

"_We don't do Anything."_ Larry sang, lifting his slushie in the air and toasting Pa, who took the first verse.

_Well, I've never been to Gondor  
__And I've never been to Rohan  
__And I've never buried treasure  
__In the Mines of Moria,  
__And I've never been to Mirkwood  
__And I've never been to Harad  
__And I've never been to Mordor in the fall_.

'_Cuz We're the Nazgûl  
__Who Don't Do Anything;  
__We just stay home  
__And lie around . ..  
__And if you ask us  
__To do anything  
__We'll just tell you:  
_"_We don't do anything,"_ Mr. Lunt took over.

_And I never slay the good guys  
__And I never wear bright orange  
__And I never use a saddle  
_'_Cuz I never ride at all,  
__And I've never screeched a warning  
__And I've never sniffed for hobbits  
__And I've never been to Mordor in the fall._

'_Cuz we're the Nazgûl  
__Who Don't Do Anything;  
__We just stay home  
__And lie around . . .  
__And if you ask us  
__To do anything  
__We'll just tell you:  
_"_We don't do Anything."_

Excited that it was finally his turn, Larry jumped up (not realizing that jumping up was "doing something" until it was too late, and by that time, sitting down would have been "doing something") and sang:

_Well, I've never eaten codfish,  
__And I'm not too good at flying,  
__And I've never thrown my rotten salad  
__Down Theoden's hall,  
__And I've never kissed a badger  
__And I've never picked wild flowers,  
__And I've never been to Mordor in the fall!_(1)

Larry beamed as he finished his brilliantly nonsensical verse, but the others were less than impressed.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Pa burst out. "What's a codfish and wild flowers have to do with being a Nazgûl?"

"Hey, that's right," Mr. Lunt agreed. "We're supposed to sing about Nazgûl-y things!"

"Oh," said Larry softly, abashed, not really getting it. Not listening to him, Pa Grape and Mr. Lunt kept arguing, never even noticing that their fellow Nazgûl were approaching, never even feeling the close tug of their master's ring, never even hearing the roaring waters of the Bruinen until. . . .

"Eh, no, I don't think so," Pa Grape asserted. Then, "Did you hear something? A sort of rushing noise?"

"You mean that water?" Mr. Lunt replied after listening closely. "Yeah."

"I don't think we should be here," Pa Grape said hesitantly, but Larry interrupted him before he could continue:

_And I've never licked cold mug,  
_("Larry! I really think we should –")  
_And I've never sniffed a stink bug,  
__And I've never painted mallorns on a rubber palantir  
__And I've never swum the Anduin  
_("Watch out! Larry, come on!")  
_And I don't look good in war gear . . ._

And then all that was left were the horses of water to sing, _And they've never been to Mordor in the fall. . . ._

Nervously, trying not to think about the Council's probably reaction to four giant vegetables (and one half-caterpillar) intruding in a secret meeting, Nienna, Ainariel, Lily, and Archibald hopped into the council. They smiled hopefully as the ring of elves, dwarves, men, hobbits, and Gandalf stared at them in shock. And then the world went (literally) white.

For a second Nienna was confused. Then an uncontrollable impulse sprang up, as if coming from another source. But, of course, that was impossible. "Okay, Lily, it's time for the theme song!"

"Uh, yeah, Ann. What do I do?"

"Ann? My name isn't – I know! How about you play the guitar?"

"Ann, I don't have any hands." Lily's voice had risen, her slight lisp becoming more pronounced. "And Ann has only one syllable, which –"

"I don't like the name – oh. You're right. Well, how about this?"

"I don't want to play that. It'll look silly."

"Well I don't want to sing, but, come on, it'll be fun!"

"Oh, okay. But they better not laugh."

"All right! Better get on out there!" Despite all probability, Ann – Nienna! Her name was Nienna! – Ann was a very pale color (for a tomato.) A small bead of perspiration kept trying to spring up on her face, before disappearing as the narrative took hold. She wanted to fight, but –

A sousaphone materialized on Lily, and she poked her head out into the whiteness, then hopped into the center of it. Ann followed. Taking a deep breath, and vaguely wondering about the fact that she couldn't possibly play an instrument she hadn't so much as touched before, the cucumber began the introduction to the VeggieTales Theme Song. Ann was right on cue, and, to her acute embarrassment, began to sing.

"If you like to talk to tomatoes . . . if a squash can make you smile . . . if you like to waltz with potatoes . . . up and down the produce aiiiiisle! Have we got a show for you! Broccoli . . ."

At this cue, the whiteness began to flash with bright images: a picnic blur shooting across a chasm; orcs sneering; a cold, white mountain; Legolas posing; Lily laughing; a tomato in camouflage paint; sweeping mallorns; and, overshadowing all, a sinister golden circle.

Ainariel, still invisible, glanced around in panic. With no Junior around, something told her that _she _was the one appointed to sing the next verse, and she couldn't remember the words. But first the chorus, which she did know:

"VeggieTales!"

Ainariel suddenly smiled as her memory returned to her, and hopped to downstage the others as she proudly sang: "Lima beans! Collard greens! Peachy keen!"

"VeggieTales!"

Lily, singing triumphantly through her tuba (no one knew how) added: "Cauliflower! Sweet and sour! Half and hour!"

One must wonder at this moment what the vegetables' audience was thinking at the moment. One cannot know all their thoughts. But Elrond, for one, was watching more in interest than alarm. Few things can get past one who wears a Ring of Power, and half-elf quickly recognized that he was witnessing images of the future through these . . . vegetables.

"VeggieTales!"

Even so, Elrond was very cautious around these creatures, and so braced himself against the end of the song, as flowers (unrecognizable as any Middle-earth species) fell from the sky all over his council. He made a mental note to examine them afterwards -- when the place was clean of them.

"There's never-ever-ever-ever-ever been a show like VeggieTales!  
There's never-ever-ever-ever-ever been a show like VeggieTales!  
It's time for VeggieTales!"

So it was that Elrond, at least, was ready to catch Ainariel as she nearly fainted from the sudden (and uncontrollable) exertion. Lily hurried off to help him with her friend, (and find a place to sit down) but Ann didn't move. It wasn't that she wasn't tired (and angry) more that -- well, quite frankly it's hard for a tomato to fall over when 'over' is about the same state as ̀ up.'

Only Archibald looked . . . unruffled. Of course, he had been doing this a lot longer than any of the others (as in: more than once) and found it . . . normal. After all, was not some of his past a future told in the song?(2) It was only natural that he would know what was going on.

When the elves had found the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth (including Larry's extra) black robes by the side of the river, they hadn't known what to do, and so had brought all of them back to Elrond to rely on his wisdom. Elrond had studied them long and hard, and had questioned Gandalf on whether he had seen extra Riders.

No, he hadn't.

But they were certainly the robes of the Black Riders and alone, Elrond mused to himself and wondered gravely if Sauron had not somehow secretly manufactured more Nazgûl, and somehow hidden the fact from all of Middle-earth. Was it possible? And did he have any other choice than to believe it was?

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Author's Notes: This part was written mostly by Lily Took and Nienna Telrunya. Future parts will be written almost solely by Nienna with some input from Lily. This makes Nienna sad, but what can one do? Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW. I write for comments.

Oh announcement: up until now, I have posted every week. After this, it will be about once every two weeks. Sorry. Reviews and constructive criticism much appreciated.

(1)Almost directly from VT; quoted. Thank you and is disclaimed. See: ultimateveggie dot com slash silly slash silly07 dot html for real words and music.

(2)This line may not make sense at the moment, but it does to me. Oh, yes. Mwahaha. Think about it closely, and you'll understand. Maybe.


	4. What Do You Mean, the Wrong Counsel?

The Larry of the Rings – Episode 4

_What do you mean, the wrong Counsel?_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So," asked Lily brightly, as soon as she had caught her breath. "What'd we miss?"

"Lily," Ainariel answered slowly, glancing around. "I don't think this is the Counsel. I mean, _a_ counsel, sure. But not, you know, _the _Counsel."

Ann – Nienna – blinked. She was not quite so knowledgeable about canon as her two friends. "How can you tell?"

"Well, for one thing, it's December, not October. We're two months late. And for another, there aren't enough people here . . ." Ainariel drifted off uncomfortably under the stern gaze of Elrond, who was still supporting her from her near-faint. Then suddenly indignant (or, more likely, embarrassed), she shrugged off his helping hands and hopped around Lily, to put the cucumber between them. "It's just not right," she muttered.

It is only correct that in this part of the narrative there be a long and nervous silence and shuffling feet. We can only assume that if this had begun, Elrond would have put a stop to it. But 'twas not to be.

"Ah! The Beautiful Young Asparagus does not know what to say! You must help your dear Pariwash, my friend!"

"Khalil . . ." Ainariel muttered angrily.

"Um. Yes." Archibald straightened (which was impressive, as he was already standing very straight) and hopped forwards. Then he paused for a moment and leaned towards Ann. "Are these the . . . orcs?" he asked in a low voice.

Ann bit back a laugh. Orcs! In Rivendell! "No," she said quickly, shaking her . . . well, her entire body. Not in laughter, really. "No, these are – well, the tall pretty ones must be elves. And the short bare-footed ones hobbits – and those are men and dwarves. Don't you remember?"

"Ah. Yes, I do. Thank you." Archibald resumed his proud stance, attempting to be oblivious to the incredulous stares from his audience – and, perhaps, disappointed that these beings were not the orcs. They looked so pleasant. He had a bad feeling about the orcs.

Archibald cleared his throat. "Dear people," he announced. Then paused. What to say? These were not the ones he was supposed to give his message to. "Dear people. I have come here as part of my work in spreading the word of the Lord. I was hoping that perhaps you might be able to guide me to some orcs, that I may spread His word to them as He has desired me to do."

"You wish to seek out orcs, the foulest and cruelest of all the beings in the land. They would kill you upon sight, or worse. Why would an . . . asparagus . . . wish such foolery?" It was a Man who spoke these words, although the vegetables certainly did not know, at that time, which. He was later named Boromir, a brave and honorable man, and one who ate his vegetables (how else would he have known what that weird-looking giant green thing with the monocle was?)

"It is precisely because they are foul and cruel that I must find them and teach them about the Lord, as He has commanded me. Everyone deserves a second chance to make amends." Archibald, now altogether entrenched in the role of Jonah (although with his own experience and wisdom – while Jonah never really got it, Archibald Asparagus did).

Boromir clearly didn't understand, so Ainariel took over. "Look," she said. "He's a missionary. He converts people, okay?"

But of course, there were no missionaries in Middle-earth.

"He helps people become better people," Ann explained softly. "He helps turn bad people into good people, and shows them how to understand compassion and mercy." (Now why did that phrase sound familiar? Compassion and mercy. Hadn't she heard that somewhere recently?) "It may not always be easy, but he believes everyone deserves a chance. And don't we? Sure, it might be dangerous, but he'll be watched over."

Yes, they understood, and even Elrond nodded, until:

"Especially by the beautiful Periwash!" Khalil exclaimed, earning another glare from Ainariel.

"How many times do I have to tell you," she hissed. "My name is _not_ Periwash. It's Ainariel. Ainariel, got it! Come on, Archibald, tell him."

"Carlyle . . ."

"Khalil!"

"Carlyle –"

"Pardon me, but what are you?" The conversation stopped short, and the veggies turned to see who had spoken. A hobbit, apparently. He looked young, but who knew hobbit ages? Seeing their stares, he quickly bowed. "Peregrin Took, and your service."

In wonderful unison, Lily, Ainariel, and Ann bowed in response: "Lily Took at yours . . . Ainariel at yours . . . Ann T. Tomato, at yours . . ."

"Took?" Pippin exclaimed, staring at Lily, who merely shrugged in reply with a secret smile. Then, unable to contain herself:

"Yeah! Took! Best name there is." She grinned.

"And I am Archibald Asparagus. This is my . . . assistant . . . Carlyle."

"Khalil!" he did his own bow to Pippin. "And me? My mother was a worm, my father was a caterpillar. But I am okay with that now."

"And we're vegetables," Lily added helpfully.

"Of late," was Ann's muttered addition.

"Yeah. Of late. We weren't always vegetables. But see we were on our way to –"

"We seem to have had a little accident," Ann interrupted.

"But we're okay with that now." Ainariel grinned. Why pass up a chance for a good quote? Khalil looked taken aback at his line being taken, but before he could protest, someone none of them had noticed before spoke.

He was tall, and might almost have been a Man. Thick grey hair spilled from beneath a pointed blue hat as he leaned on a gnarled staff. _This_ was Gandalf the Grey, Mithrandir, wizard extraordinary. "Perhaps these are the answer we have been seeking," he said in a low voice.

The newcomers blinked. "Come again?" Ann hazarded.

Gandalf cleared his throat, as if to speak, but then – again – music started in the background. Archibald looked resigned, Ann annoyed, Ainariel faintly amused, Lily exuberant. Khalil looked like a blue half-worm, but then, didn't he always?

"_You were searching the river –"_ Elrond and Gandalf exchanged looks. Hadn't they just gone through this? _"You were feeling kinda sleepy.  
But you couldn't stop your search because you'd just found something creepy!"_

"_Were those shadows on the far bank?_" Lily took over and Ann, red as a tomato, let her.  
"_Or a dark creature on the prowl_?" Then Ann again:

"_There was something dark and sleeky marring the peaceful little walk!  
Now your heart is beating like a drum!  
Your skin is getting clammy.  
You begin to realize that there were five more than nine big baddies!  
_"_What are you going to do?_" Mercifully, Ann was able to close her mouth again.

"Yes," observed someone wryly. "I think he was just getting to that." The person shrank away when Gandalf's bushy eyebrows furrowed at him. A small person. Another hobbit, probably. Merry?

"You know about them, then," Elrond said carefully.

"Know about –?" Archibald halted in confusion. "I'm sorry. Know about what?"

"Er. I might have a guess." Ann shrugged helplessly.

"You do not know then."

"Um. Nope. But my guess would be –"

"You found too many cloaks!" Lily jumped up. "Of course!"

"This is getting ridiculous," Ainariel muttered.

"I don't understand –"

"This is a total wreck of canon –"

"How many more? Four? That's what, thirteen? Unlucky number."

"Good math. Very talented."

"Hey --"

"Oh, no, what we gonna do – what, no song cue for me?"

"You mean, 'Oh no, what we gonna do.'"

"Yes, thanks, Lily. It's not working for you eith–"

Then suddenly, music cued. Again. The native Middle-earthers let out a slight sigh, but they seemed to be getting used to it. Their strange guests certainly did seem to burst in to song a lot.

"_Oh, no! What we gonna do?  
These extra Nazguls hurt the quest, it's true.  
Oh, no! What we gonna do?  
The Ring's got to leave Rivendell. _

"_Oh, no! What we gonna do?  
These extra Nazguls hurt the quest it's true.  
Oh, no! What we gonna do?  
We need to get the Ring out of here."_

The Ainariel and Lily sprang into a very odd, jerky dance.

"_We could throw it in the dungeon  
We could let it rot in jail.  
__We could drag it to the ocean  
Have it eaten by a whale."_

Then Ann sang a counter melody with her two friends, to the amazement of all:

"_We could throw it in the Brandybuck  
__Let it float awhile,  
Then we'll all sit back and watch it meet  
A hungry crocodile_

_We could put it on a pony's back  
And send it off to Bree  
With a wooden case to carry it  
__And never let it free –"_

"Or," Gandalf interrupted, stopped the music (Ainariel could have kissed him, had he not been an old, old man . . . er, wizard).

"Or," Frodo added softly, and all heads swung around to stare at him. He had not spoken before. "Or, they could accompany us." Ann met the eyes of her hero and saw a strange, determined glitter in them, one which only shone brighter against the odd pale of his skin. There was no question in her mind, for that one moment. Frodo Baggins, Maura Labingi the (future) Nine-fingered, hobbit of the Shire. The next moment, the look was gone, and she was spun off into the song again:

"_We could use it as a footstool  
Or a table to lay old maps on  
Then tie it up and beat it up  
And throw it out of Rivendell!"_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Yes, yes, it's shorter and took forever to get out. This is actually a closer length to what parts will be in the future; otherwise, I'd never get them out. But I'm determined to continue. As for now . . . I need a beta. Any volunteers? Suggestions and criticism welcome, comments adored.

PLEASE REVIEW.

Oh, and next part? Yes, more substance, don't worry.


	5. Leaving a Quantum Paradise Or not

The Larry of the Rings-- Episode 5

Leaving the Quantum Paradise. Or not.

Disclaimer: If it belongs to VeggieTales or Tolkien, it doesnt belong to me. My only payment is in reviews.

Note: I know that in Episode 4, it says there are five extra cloaks. There were only four extras. I have fixed this now. Sorry.

0-0-0-0

When the music cut off (again), everyone (except Lily, who had expected no less than Fellowship appointment, and Archibald and Khalil who still had no idea what was going on) turned to stare with varying degrees of open-mouthed astonishment at Frodo. Even Frodo did this, and if you have never seen anyone gape at himself, let me tell you: its not an experience to miss.

Ann looked like she wanted to object, but was (apparently) busy choking, and Ainariel was busy edging away from Elrond again, so no one thought to stop Lily before she spoke.

"I knew it! We get to go with the Company! We get to go with the Fellowship, the Fellowship, we get to go with the Fellowship, wheeeee!"

"Thirteen companions?" Elrond asked delicately, raising one eyebrow. Ann coughed out something to the effect of 'canon.' Archibald looked confused.

"Thirteen companions, and all the luck we can bear," grumbled a voice in the back, hidden from view, but very low and gravelly.

"Thats what Bilbo Baggins hates," Pippin quipped in a low voice, nudging his cousin.

"Fourteen, not thirteen, you silly goose," Khalil corrected the voice who, on reflection, was probably Gimli. "Do not forget me.

"As if we could," Archibald complained good-naturedly, swiveling one eye to stare at the blue worm. Half-worm, anyway.

"Oh, I know that _you_ would never forget me, Traveling Buddy."

Archibald sighed. "No."

"You know, it does kind of make sense," Ainariel said logically. "If there are thirteen Nazgûl."

By this time, Ann's face should have been very red indeed from all her choking. Under the circumstances, it was impossible to tell any difference.

Ignoring her, Elrond nodded his surprising approval. "Indeed-- if the riders number thirteen, so should the walkers. However, there are many such companions who would fare better on the road, and assist to greater consequence . . . trusted warriors."

"Hey, you can trust us! Right? We know all about Middle-earth. Yep." Lily grinned.

"Oh, sure, that's the problem! "Ann garbled, finally managing to speak. "All about Middle-earth! And everything! Sure! We're fangirls, we are, know everything! No, I mean, we know nothing! We are ignorant! We can't even speak Westron!"

A pause. "You are speaking Westron at the moment," a quiet voice reminded her.

"Well, _yes_, but I dont know how to."

This made for a rather long and uncomfortable pause, finally broken by Gandalf. "They can be trusted," he said simply, and would not offer further explanation. Undoubtably, he would speak with the original companions later. For the moment --

"Yet there are still fourteen, not the thirteen of the Riders," a tall elf (as if there were any short elves) pointed out.

"Not really," Lily contradicted, in her I'm-being-logical-for-once-so-listen-up voice. "See, there are thirteen of us-- plus Khalil. And he's half-worm. So we're really thirteen-and-a-half, not fourteen, not thirteen-- so not unlucky. So the bad Nazgûl people can have all the bad luck they want, and we won't have any! And don't forget Bill. Not that he was ever counted . . . you have decided to take Bill, right?"

"Bill the Pony?" a sturdy Hobbit who stood next to the Ringbearer asked. "Yes; he is to accompany us."

"Well, then," Lily said, as if this solved everything.

Ann stared, wide-eyed at everyone, and, seeing their agreement, did the only thing she could think of. "I'm going to go sulk," she announced to the world in general, and hopped off.

"Okay, have fun!" Lily tried to wave at her, realized she didn't have hands, and ended up wiggling enthusiastically instead. The Hobbits all exchanged looks (thus, according to math teachers everywhere, making a total of six exchanged looks, since 3+2+16).

In the end, the newly-turned-into veggies were to accompany the Fellowship, and Khalil wouldn't technically be a companion. Insects were pushing it (not that worms are bugs, but they do have ten ring hearts, and since caterpillars, Khalil's other half, _are_ undoubtably bugs. . . .) So Khalil broke the unlucky number and made it 13.5 (plus Bill the Pony, but no one counts him), thus stretching plausibility and canon to a point where it was surprising that the big rubber band that was Tolkien 'verse didnt go "boiiing."

Sometimes, its better not to ask.

The Fellowship was to leave at dusk in seven days, in accordance with canon. Against no odds whatsoever (such is the power of the narrative), Lily, Ainariel, Nienna, and Archibald were now official members, and therefore fully trusted. Khalil was not. There were four extra Nazgûl cloaks, not five.

The fact that none of them were warriors, knew how to use weapons-- except for Ann, who was (unhelpfully) good with a handgun-- other than purses and slushies, or even had proper hands was briefly discussed but then dismissed, on the basis that the whole situation was so weird, it must have been meant to be this way.

Again, this was based on the interference of the narrative, for who could imagine Elrond thinking up something so ridiculous?

In any case, the Company took little gear of war, for their hope was in secrecy not in battle.(1) Unfortunately, secrecy is a thing very difficult for a bright red, round, two-foot tomato who smells faintly of . . . well, tomato juice. Lily, Ainariel, and Archibald were all suitably green and could be attired plainly, and Khalil was small and often stayed out of sight. Ann, however. . . .

"No."

"Ann . . . come on. You're the one who was going on about not wanting to be a giant target. Anyway, itll be fun. Almost wish it were me." Lily grinned at her.

"Sure, fun. Maybe at first. But then . . . oh, I can just imagine. It'll itch and peel and I'll be wearing crispy bits of it after a while-- at least until it rains."

"It is of elf-make," Ainariel pointed out helpfully. "I'm sure they can do it right-- it'll stay on just fine."

"No."

"Ann --"

"No way. Are you crazy? Im not going to walk. . .hop. . .around Middle-earth covered in . . ." Ann trailed off, gazing somewhere behind Lily. "Oh, hello Archibald."

"Hello, Ann. Ainariel. Lily. Have you seen Mr. Frodo Baggins? I'm supposed to give this to him . . . message from Elrond." Archibald waved a small scroll in vaguely the direction he had come from.

"I think he's talking with Bilbo again," Ainariel kindly informed him, and the asparagus hopped off with an "Oh, yes. Thank you. Well, goodbye again."

"Definitely not," Ann reaffirmed as soon as Archibald was out of sight.

"It won't be that bad, Ann. Think of it as an adventure."

Ann glared. The elf who was standing behind her with a brush of dripping paint raised an eyebrow, but decided not to speak. Elves could be very patient, and this looked like it might take a long time.

"You're no fun," Lily grumbled.

Ainariel sighed. Wheedling obviously didnt work. "Look," she said, "just do it, or I'll hit you with my purse."

"No," Ann bit out sourly.

"Fear not, Ann," Lily grinned. To Ann's relief, music did _not_ start. Probably because Ann was only one syllable long, and wouldn't have fit in the song.

"And anyway, what do you have against it? Its just camouflage paint."

"Yes-- and it was _your_ idea. Oh, right-- so Ann is bright red? Just paint her camouflage. She'll fit right in. Thanks loads."

"Camouflage paint, Lily said, in a joking voice, not knowing how true her words really were, "is one of Anns greatest fears. She turned to Ann. "Don't worry-- you just have to confront it."

And then the music _did_ start. For the bazillionth time in the past five days.

"If you two do get your way, I'd be painted, and I say:  
that'd be too bad, I'd be so sad."

Ainariel, not really understanding what Ann meant, repeated, "Er. That'd be too bad, you'd be so sad?"

"That'd be too bad," Ann agreed. "If that camo covered me, from my head down to my knee, that'd be too bad. I might get mad."

"That'd be too bad, you might get mad?"

"That'd be too bad. Ann rolled her eyes. Really, it should be obvious by now! "If you insist on painting me, I will be very unhappy. It'd be so bad. I'd call my Dad."

There was a pause. "Hold on, do you mean that you brought your cell phone after all?" Lily burst out.

"Um."

"I'd probably not work in Middle-earth anyway," Ainariel pointed out.

"Where do you keep it? I mean, it's not like you have any pockets. Oh, have you mastered the invisible veggie pockets thingy? Cause I've been really trying to figure it out."

"And its not like her Dad could do anything for her anyway. I mean, were in Middle-earth, right?"

"Right."

"And anyway, you still haven't answered the question as to why you hate camouflage paint so much. Ann, tell me about your childhood."

Ann treated Ainariel to a death glare which rather lost its impact, as she began to sing again. "When I was just two years old, I was splattered by paint, big and bold, and I turned blue. What could I do?"

"You turned blue, what could you do?"

"It was cerulean, too. When kindergarten started up, I got green paint all down my smock. I nearly cried; I'd really tried."

"You nearly cried; You'd really tried?"

"Okay, I cried. Ten days after I turned twelve I knocked over the art work shelf. My friends all laughed. And I just stood there covered in multi-colored paint that was slowly dripping together and turning all this icky brown color and it turned out some of it was acidic and I had to be rushed to the bathroom where someone had flooded the toilets and so there was water everywhere and the teachers made me change into these really nasty-smelling lost-and-found clothes that turned out to have belonged to a guy named Ike who only spoke North Dakotan and I don't speak any North Dakotan, so we had to write out English in paint and I learned a new word: pnemonamicroultrascopicsilicovolcanocoliosis."

"Hey, that's my word!" Lily protested. "I can even spell it! P-N-E-U --"

"Hey, aren't you interested in my disparaging childhood here?"

"I'm confused," the random elf holding the paint put in, wondering if he was ever going to get to paint the tomato, or just have to wait there for who-knew-how-long while the weird vegetables sang and argued?

"I don't like paint on me. I like to be clean. Or at least unpainted. You know, skin-colored."

"So in this case, red," Ainariel pointed out. "Orc-target material."

Ann pouted. "Oh, fine," she said at last. "But you'd better not laugh."

Lily and Ainariel acquiesced, somewhat untruthfully, and watched in deep amusement as the elf finally got to paint all of Ann but the small circle she was standing on which, she argued, would be soon covered in dirt anyway and would be against the ground. Thus making her the only member of the Fellowship best hidden when standing up.

Twenty minutes later, the first vision from the theme song came true, and a fully-camouflaged tomato became the first (and last) of her kind ever to sit in Rivendell.

1) See "The Ring Goes South." Page 365 in my version (Ballantine books). Direct quote.

Chapter 6: Meanwhile . . .

PLEASE REVIEW!

Sorry, I will be gone all summer. So this will be the last chapter up until at least late August. Forgive me.

Very special thanks to RubyCTook and LothirielofRohan

I had to fix all the formatting and put back in all quotation marks, etc. so forgive any ones I missed.


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